I believe he's waiting on hearing from Andy as to whether Black Static will use the Top Ten or the Top Twenty before notifying the writers, and I think Andy is focused on getting IZ off to the printers at the moment, so could be a day or so yet.

I found it difficult to fit a story into 500 words to be honest. I had to keep tinkering with it, and worrying about the word count was a bit of a distraction.

I like the idea of a big archive for the fallen and the forlorn.

I don't have a wordpress acount, are they difficult to set up?

Shall I post my story here for the time being (I don't think I'm going to try a 500 word thing again)?

Metholayed Spirits (500 words)

Since the caretaker died the house next door was empty.

Hid behind my mom when the fire hose ran through our garage until I realised it wasn’t our house, and then I wanted to see everything but wasn’t allowed to. We found smoke stained books in the room where he’d died. Casino Royale was one, everybody read it and passed it around like nobody had died at all. He didn’t get burned, just the smoke killed him.

It was getting dangerous when the clocks went back. We were shouted at regularly for going in. Your jumper was never thick enough to keep out the cold wind. Missing floorboards, you could see below. The stairs were okay. Upstairs there was a painted white circle in the middle of the room. Perfect for a train set, they got it set up and powered by steam, the metholayted spirits chuntering round. The hippies had been in and done a séance and had drawn the circle, but now it was our turn. This went on for hours, aeroplanes and everything flew across the room. More kids than the place could stand, so some were expelled downstairs mostly because they were fat, lived a long way away, and my brother owed them money so things were thrown down at them making the holes in the floorboards bigger. But instead of throwing back up, they took the staircase out from the bottom up because that was more fun. Competing with the shouting and swearing the aeroplanes that flew then were large pieces of wood.

Couldn’t hear anything, didn’t know what was going on, it got dark. And I was on my own. Couldn’t get downstairs, the stairs had gone. The train set had gone too. I ran around. At the front a window was cracked, it wasn’t before, and there was no streetlights. Went back to the room with the white circle, it seemed a bit warmer because the door hadn’t been ripped off before. The cold wind didn’t get in. Heard something loose and afraid the floor would fall out under me. I saw that hippie woman with the snake go away behind a cloud of smoke, but I couldn’t move. It was like magnetism. Kept hearing voices but there was nobody there. I called back but it made no difference, my ears popped.

He was a large man with green blisters over his face, he sat outside on the steps but I never saw him after he died whatever they said about witches and hippies and how I had disappeared for hours and they were all walking the streets looking for me and why was I hiding? And there was no fight and there was nothing wrong with the stairs, but I couldn’t get down - so you must have been abducted without knowing about it? There’s more things in heaven and earth, but I don’t think so. I didn’t see a ghost whatever they said. And If I did I wouldn’t say so.

I believe he's waiting on hearing from Andy as to whether Black Static will use the Top Ten or the Top Twenty before notifying the writers, and I think Andy is focused on getting IZ off to the printers at the moment, so could be a day or so yet.

I can now confirm that there is indeed a Top Twenty and that we'll be publishing them all in Black Static.

Hey guys, here's another reject.
I loved all the story's posted here, the top 10/20 must be fantastic if we all were rejected.

So here's mine..

Don’t Open the Door

I opened the door, and it came rushing at me. It knocked me to the ground and mounted me instantly. It lashed out without hesitation; tore at my skin with its talons, tearing huge slits down my torso and thighs. I tried to hold back its huge powerful head but it snapped its jaw shut on my arm. I felt every one of those razor sharp teeth penetrate my skin and puncture the tendons beneath.

There are no words to describe the pain, or even the fear I felt with this huge powerful monstrosity on top of me.

I could see steam rising from its body. At first I thought it had some weird condition, but then I realised that its skin was burning. It never even acknowledged it. The only thing it was concerned about right now was me, and taking my life.

It released my arm from its powerful jaws and I realised too late the reason why. I barely managed to move my head out of the way, before its jaws snapped shut. One of its teeth caught my cheek and sliced it clean open. I no longer had to open my mouth to breathe.

The steam from its body rose faster and thicker, but still it kept up its relentless attempt on my life. I could no longer move my legs; the ligaments had been cut too deep.

Something hot landed on my chest and burned straight through my shirt. It almost felt as if it was melting my skin. I saw pieces of skin drip from its body, and I felt it corrode as it landed on mine.

As the skin dripped off faster the thing began to get agitated. Suddenly it raised its head high up into the air. I could see it snarling at the something above it, I assumed it was the light. What else would be burning it?

I tried to struggle away. It saw me moving and looked down. Its eyes were a deep orange yellow, with a small half red circle inside. That half circle watched me struggle and I could have sworn I saw it smile. Most of its skin was falling on top of me, burning into my body.

To my amazement it started to back away; back into the shadows. I thought I would at least survive in some shape or form. Then it lunged through the door and locked its jaws around my ankle. With one jerk I was dragged towards the darkness. I flung my hands out to grab something but they found nothing. Then it pulled again and I was almost fully absorbed by darkness. My hands found the doorframe. I tried to hold on, but one arm was already punctured badly and I lost my grip. I was holding on for my life with one hand. Then it pulled again, and this time there was no light; only darkness. It’s only a matter of time now before I take my last breath.

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